The Dress Stained in Sugar
by Of Pearls and Paints
Summary: Katniss goes to a dance. The outcome? Check the title.


The thick and sweaty air suffocated her; the strobe lights nearly blinded her eyes. One of her pins was stuck sharply in her head and was digging into her skin. The dress she wore felt too revealing and uncomfortable.

Why did Madge drag her here out of all places? She stood in the gym entrance awkwardly, caught like a deer in headlights, surveying the food and drink. _That's where I'll be all night,_ she thought despairingly.

Madge immerged out of the plethora of people, adorned in a blue dress that suited her perfectly. She felt a rush of relief at the sight of her friend. "Come on, Katniss." Madge's smile was genuine and big, so unlike her own that Katniss tried to upturn the corners of her lips.

Her friend's sweaty hand led her all the way to the right side of the gym. "I don't think I can do this Madge," Katniss nervously admitted.

"Of course you can. I'll be fun. Dance with him," she said, pointing to a tall boy whose features somewhat resembled a gorilla. Maybe it was the nose.

"What? Madge!" Madge soon left to dance with other people, leaving Katniss alone. She looked around for a minute, seeing if there was anyone who could possibly get her out of this mess but alas found no one.

"Hey," she said the gorilla boy.

"Hey," he responded in a low voice. Clearing her throat, she steeled herself.

"Let's dance, shall we?" He was so tall that she reached neck level. Taking his giant hand in one and placing another on his chest, she began to sway. She figured that if she was going to dance, she might as well do it right. Admittedly, Katniss had taken a few dancing classes for the benefit of her sister. Prim was the one person she could not refuse and when the pleading began for them to take class together what was she to do?

Gorilla boy was surprised at her expertise and, through a bit of reason, figured out he had to put his hand on her waist. Her insides squirmed as she felt his hand rest there.

"You done this before?" he grunted.

"Yes. I have. Now let's step forward every three counts and then back every three counts." The song was no where near the genre of music she was aiming for but she definitely was not going to do the crazy dancing the other kids were doing.

"Counts?" he asked, his eyebrows creasing.

"Seconds."

"Oh." Katniss started first, even though the man was supposed to be the lead.

"1,2,3. 1,2,3." His legs remained stuck to the floor.

"Wha-?"

"We're starting." Gorilla grunted in reply. He began to move his feet as if he were Frankenstein.

"Quicken the pace," she whispered. Almost instantly he began to lift his feet like hot tamales were on the ground.

"Not that fast!" The boy reverted back to the original slow moving Frankenstein "dance".

"Just forget it," Katniss said, shaking her head.

"I'll get something to drink," she added. He looked around, as if confused, and did his dance alone. She regretted wearing the shiny shoes, for the straps enjoyed digging themselves into the flesh of her feet.

As she was nearing the food table Madge caught her by the arm. Her face was flushed red, her perfectly curled hair ruined slightly. "How are you? Having fun, I hope?"

"Not really," she muttered. She gave her a pouty look, the mascara making her blue eyes even bigger.

"Try? For me, at least. Okay?" Who was this girl? She certainly replaced the quiet Mayor's daughter she saw during the school day. Perhaps she never quite knew Madge. The tables were ornamented with grand pastries and cupcakes of every color and flavor. Surely they weren't done by the kids, who merely bought ones at the nearest supermarket. No, these were done by a real professional.

"Who did these?" Katniss asked a girl, who by the looks of it, was simply delightedto talk to her. She pushed her dark hair out of her face, revealing heavily shadowed eyes. Pursing her lips she replied, "The Mellarks'. Who else?" And with that, she strutted away, her hair trailing behind her.

The Mellarks. Her blood ran cold and a certain memory of an interaction with one of the Mellark boys flashed through her mind. She had never thanked him, never talked to him. Spotting a green one with a flower that looked suspiciously like a katniss plant, she wondered is it was meant for her. _Of course it wasn't_, she thought, pushing the thought out of her mind. The appetite she once gained was lost immediately and she began to push through the crowd of people until she reached the girl's bathroom, longing for a bit of peace and quiet or even just to take her shoes off.

Unfortunately Katniss was highly mistaken. Two girls were chattering loudly, their sweet perfume making her a bit nauseous. They were talking about how so and so did this to her, which she's never supposed to do, or something similar to that. The girls glanced at Katniss quickly and then went back to fixing their hair.

Feeling quite sick herself, she took off her shoes a held them by the thin bands. Her feet felt instantaneous reprieve and she hobbled her way out of the bathroom. Reckoning that Madge wouldn't miss her and that the whole thing was a failure anyway, she headed straight to the back door.

A sudden whoosh of air flew past her, bearing a load of weight and she felt herself falling to the ground. An unusual sticky feeling covered her chest and hand. "I'm so sorry, I-" a boy's voice said. And she found a pair of bright blue eyes staring right back at her. Peeta had fallen sideways on top of her, cake in hand. A bit had gotten on his nose and she felt oddly like laughing. He stood up quickly, and finding his voice, apologized again.

He held out a hand for her to take but she blatantly refused, standing up unsteadily. Her head throbbed horribly from the fall. It was only standing up that one could see the full affect the mishap had caused. Light blue frosting covered the front of her dress; it even was in her hair. A sugary smell filled up the space around her and the sticky icing clung to her like glue.

"I'm sorry."

"Will you stop apologizing? Madge is going to kill me for ruining her dress." Couldn't he understand that what she needed was simply some silence?

"Would you like me to help?"

"No. Clean the frosting that got on the floor." She was being rude, and she knew it. But Katniss was too sick and tired to care about something as menial as someone's feelings. Foul moods ruin any inch of politeness in her.

If the reaction of the girls last time was a quick glance, then this was a lengthy stare. Grabbing some paper towel and water, she began to dab at her dress with it. Instead of going away like she intended it to, it stained the lavender satin even more. After numerous tries of trying to remove the stain off Madge's dress without much success, she began to try to work it out of her hair. _This icing Peeta made must have some sort of glue in it_, she thought. Peeta. A slight feeling of guilt arose with his name but she quickly reminded herself of why she thought of him in the first place.

She felt stuffy in the bathroom and went out to work the icing from her hair. Surprised, she found Peeta still cleaning up the icing on the floor.

Annoyed at his ignorance, she took some wet paper towel and muttered, "Here. I'll help."

He looked up and thanked Katniss briefly. Scrubbing and chipping didn't seem to help. In fact the harder they tried to get it off, the more immovable it became.

"What is in this frosting?" she demanded.

"Sugar and wa-" His face immediately paled.

"What?"

"I might have accidently grabbed the wrong bowl. I made paper mache paste for a project and might have grabbed that bowl instead," Peeta confessed.

"You what? How can you confuse the two? One's dyed blue and the other's white."

"I dyed the paper mache paste blue also." The words hit her slowly, one by one. How stupid could this boy be?

"That would've been the most disgusting cake ever."

"Well, yeah. In that case, it might have been a good thing I crashed into you."

"Not for Madge," she reminded him.

"How're we supposed to get this off? And how am I supposed to get this out of the dress?"

"Soak the dress when you get home. For the floor, I suppose we should get the janitor."

"The janitor doesn't come till Monday. By then the paste will never come off." She began scrubbing furiously, upset at everyone and everything. Why had Madge forced her to come? She never cared about these stupid dances anyway.

"I hate dances," she mumbled.

"Me too. I'm not much of a dancer."

"It's not that, I've just never been the social type."

"You can dance?" he asked, astonished.

"My sister wanted me to take lessons a couple of years ago. I remember most of the stuff, so yeah."

"I'm impressed."

"Impressed that I know a few things?"

"No, impressed that you did it."

"Well Prim can get anybody to do anything, you know how she is." They continued on in silence. The scrubbing of the floors and music were the only things to be heard.

"Would you care to dance with me?" She looked up, flabbergasted.

"You just said you weren't much of a dancer."

"A guy's gotta learn sometime in his life. Why not now?"

"Maybe because there's a huge mess on the floor and on me."

"Maybe that's why we should dance." Peeta stood up abruptly, dusting off his clothes. She noticed that he was wearing a shirt and jeans, wear not meant for the dances.

"I was just supposed to drop off the cake, not stay," he said, explaining his choice of clothes.

"It doesn't matter though," he added. Katniss looked up, exasperated. The boy who has caused this whole mess now wanted to dance with her. It made no sense.

"If I dance with you, and I mean one dance, will you shut up?" Delight graced his features.

"Yes!" She stood slowly in the ruined dress, shoes off and hair disheveled.

"Are you sure you want me to do this?" He nodded excitedly.

"Put your hand here and hold mine like this." She made him place his hand at her waist and instead of feeling awkward like it was with Gorilla boy, it felt natural. His hands were warm and steady.

"Every three counts we'll step forward, every three counts we'll step back. Ready?" Peeta nodded in reply and she gave him a slight smile.

"1,2,3.1,2,3." She counted the first twelve seconds as a victory because he hadn't stepped on her toes.

"Relax," she breathed and he relaxed at once, perhaps lulled by the sound of her voice. It was simple, yet elegant. Instead of wearing a stained dress she wore a gown, and a suit replaced Peeta's street clothes. They were no longer two exhausted teenagers, they were dancing partners. The music played only for them and the floor didn't crash under their feet because of them.

The easy dance they were doing earlier evolved into something more complex that could only be made up. He held her in a graceful dip and as she was about to come up darkness surrounded them. Katniss crashed to the floor, the music stopped and the magical moment was forever gone.

Voices of frightened students filled the room and for a moment she contemplated taking his hand. She thought better of it and got up.

"This isn't the first time this has happened, hasn't?"

"No," she replied. Students began cramming their way into the hallway they were in and she heard his voice say, "Come on." She grabbed his hand without hesitation now and slipped out before they could be crushed.

The cool air felt good on her skin and revived her spirits. It also brought back cold reality.

"You threw out the cake and the paper towels, right?"

"I'm not that stupid." And this is coming from the boy who mixed up paper mache paste and frosting. Oh, the irony.

"Need a ride?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't have shoes." Looking down she noticed that he was right; she had left her shoes inside.

"Shoot. I'll go inside and get them." Peeta held onto her arm.

"No. Look how crowded it is. You won't be able to get in there and by the time you do they'll be so trampled you won't be able wear them anymore. Just let me take you home."

"I'm walking home myself." One of Katniss's famous attributes was her determination and she wasn't about to let someone take her home. She was capable herself.

"You aren't. It's dangerous." She scoffed. Dangerous?

"I can handle it."

"Let me make it up to you. The icing, the dancing, everything. I know how important paying people back is to you. And now I need to pay you back." She contemplated the offer. It was true. Perhaps letting him drive her would make up for the bread incident long ago.

"Fine. But make it quick." The cold created goose bumps on her arms and she rubbed them hurriedly.

"Need a jacket?"

"No." She climbed into his car, surprising clunky for how well off his family was.

"It's a hand-me-down." As he turned on the engine old tunes blared from the radio. He turned down the volume and apologized.

"I'm shocked. I thought you'd be playing something more current."

"Nah. Oldies are the best."

"Do you know the way to my house?"

"Of course I do."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asked.

"Yelling at you. A million other things."

"Why would you need to be sorry?"

"Because I was rude?"

"You don't need to apologize for being upset. I got paper mache paste on you. I would've acted the same way too."

"You're not a bad dancer," she blurted out.

"Really? I'm just happy I didn't step on your feet or something. You would've killed me for sure."

"I wouldn't have killed you," she scoffed.

"I'm not so sure about that. You seemed ready to kill me after that whole paper mache fiasco."

"You said that you would've acted in the same way!" she said.

"That didn't include the killing part."

"And I thought you were nice."

"I am. I just enjoy teasing you."

"I'm not one to be teased at."

"See. It's fun."

"Peeta!"

"Alright. See, here's your stop. I'll drop you off, be a gentleman, and you can forget about this whole thing. Okay?"

"Alright," she huffed. He stood true to his word, even bowing as she got out. As Katniss made her way inside, no shoes and stained dress, she thought that perhaps the dance wasn't a mistake after all.


End file.
